lovers in arms
by i'd sink us to swim
Summary: how allan saves will's life and in return will saves allan's and maybe they'll each get something else out of this (will/allan; two-shot)


The battle was becoming rather heated, Allan noticed. He slid a bit out from his position behind the tree, having an internal debate with himself. If he stayed where he was, there would be little consequence for him; he could go back to the Castle in Nottingham and pretend that he had never betrayed his former friends, or he could step out and fight—whether for Gisborne and the Sheriff or for Robin and his men was another debate still to be had entirely. If he were to fight for Gisborne and the Sheriff, there was no doubt that any chance at redemption he may have had would be lost, and he would never gain any respect when the King returned—only a hood (ironically, enough) and a nice swing.

To fight with Robin (and Djaq, and Will, and John, and Much, and Marian), however, was what he longed for. His body ached with the self-discipline it took to stay in his place and weigh his options, dismal as they may be. There was no doubt in his heart of what he wished to do—bordering on needing. There was, however, doubt in his mind. The logical choice would be to continue on as Gisborne's man, giving the Sheriff what information he could. He would remain separated from the Merry Men, no longer an outlaw. It would save his own neck, and he had always been a man of self-preservation.

Then again, he had never had anybody who truly cared for him. Those men had, and he had carelessly thrown that away. He had been told that when you cared for someone—loved them, even—you would do anything for them… including die. No matter what he may have done, he did care for those men. He did not care for Gisborne, or the Sheriff, or anyone but them. He may have once felt this way about his brother, cared for him enough to give him chances well beyond a second and a third, but he had never before pictured that there might be any others. Now he was in the same position as his brother once was.

If he were to fight for those men, it might make no difference. There would be no forgiveness given to him. There would be no understanding. There would be no _love._

That was all he was after.

He wondered why he gave it up in the first place.

There was one thing, however, that made the decision for him.

Allan watched, as if in slow-motion, as Gisborne's sword swung down toward Much. Will, being the self-sacrificial idiot that he was, barreled into Much, taking the blow himself.

The sword buried in Will's shoulder, and Will cried out. Allan cried out also, his cry intermingling with Will's to form one solid note of anguish.

Will decided for Allan, so it seemed.

Watching Will fall to the ground was all the incentive Allan needed to draw his own sword, rushing into the battle blindly.

For once, he gave no thought for his own life, only Will's. Will who lie bleeding, his blood soaking the dirt beneath him.

Allan's sword came down upon Gisborne in the same manner that Gisborne's had on Will just moments before.

The sword never made contact, however. Once again, this was not because of a conscious decision on Allan's part. Instead, it was Will, who had remained quiet—up until the point of Gisborne's almost murder, that is.

"Allan, don't," he pleaded.

Without thought, Allan dropped the sword where it lay forgotten on the ground, and his hand came back to punch Gisborne in the face, thankfully knocking him unconscious.

"Why not?" Allan asked, turning on Will angrily. "Why shouldn't I? Would he not have done the same thing to you?"

"You are not a murderer, Allan," Will replied sagely, carefully attempting to sit up. All of the fight left Allan as he watched Will struggle, and he moved forward to assist his dark-haired friend.

"Yeah, well, he is," Allan said, helping Will to his feet, "and he almost murdered you!"

Will did not reply, instead watching as the Merry Men chased the last of the Sheriff's men off.

"I'm fine," Will said at last.

"Like hell you are!"

Allan wished to protest more, but he was interrupted by an arrow flying dangerously close to his head. His eyes landed upon Robin who had his bow still poised in the air, aimed at him.

"What was that for?" Allan cried without thinking.

"'What was that for?'" Robin mocked. "What do you think it was for? You're lucky I haven't actually just shot you!"

"Well, why didn't you then?" Allan asked, sobering. "I deserve it, don't I? I do. I betrayed you lads willingly. So, go ahead."

"Gladly," Robin said, cocking an arrow and raising his bow once again.

The bow went down just as quickly as it had gone up, however, as Will stepped boldly in front of Allan.

"No, Robin," Will said. His hand held onto his shoulder where he was bleeding profusely, his breathing was labored, and it looked as though he could barely stand, but he was somehow still a formidable presence. Everyone watched carefully as Will stood protectively in front of Allan, but the youngest man did not budge.

"Uh, Will-," Much began.

"Move," Robin commanded, interrupting the stuttering man.

"No," Will said.

"Will-"

"No!" His volume caused every person in the clearing to jump. "Is this what we've become?" Will cried. "Shoot first, ask questions later? I didn't sign up for that. I stuck with this group because I saw the good that was happening. I saw men who wanted change for the better. Not murderers."

"But, Will, he-"

"I know what he did! Believe me, I know," Will said, shoulders sagging a bit as though the knowledge was too heavy for him to bear. "But he's proven today that he cares. He may not be trustworthy, in fact, I don't trust him much myself. But, in spite of all this, he should not be killed because of his mistakes, his betrayals. We have nothing to lose by listening."

Each of the men turned their heads this way and that, gauging the reactions of those around them, but Robin simply stared straight ahead, looking unblinkingly at Will.

Finally, Robin uttered his answer: "Very well."

Just in time, as Will's body crumpled, folding in on itself toward the ground. Allan rushed forward, catching the younger man around the torso before he made impact.


End file.
